Bound
by Lenaloe
Summary: Asami has a secret which Akihito uncovers. Unable to cope with this, Asami sends Akihito away. Years later, Akihito attends Asami's funeral but who does he meet there? **Dark/Psychological/Crime/Hurt **Aki x OC **Slight AU with lemon much later. Attention: My summary sucks but I promise the story is better. It's gonna get dark, though.
1. The Beginning

"Lying is done with words, and also with silence."  
― Adrienne Rich, _Women and Honor: Some Notes on Lying_

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1. THE BEGINNING

His last job had taken him out of Japan and to China in pursuit of a corrupt minister who was involved in money laundering. As it turned out, that was not her only vice as Akihito found out several days later. He had been somewhat shocked when he found the elderly woman through his trusty viewfinder to be molesting and sexually torturing girls who seemed to have barely passed a dozen years in age. In spite of his exposure to corruption and perversion, Akihito had been somewhat shocked by the image. After all, he did vote for her and she was famed for her righteousness and advocacy for the rights of women and children. She was someone people looked up to, a champion of human rights, a child after the goddess Guan Yin herself, the Athena of the Japanese (as she refused to marry in order to prevent it from 'furthering her cause'). A 'cause' which Akihito had unwittingly stumbled across.

As he dashed past a row of headlights, Akihito thought to himself - smiling as he bounded for Shinjuku Gyouen National Park - "Really, no one can truly understand another person: what drives them, what changes them and why it happens. So many masks on so many faces. _Good thing that his camera took pictures of things as they are instead of how people wanted things to be._ That brought his thoughts towards Asami, and he felt a warmth spreading from his navel, warming his body and his synapses tingled to life, burning without fire.

Akihito could not hide it anymore. This feeling that swelled within him, making his whole body light as a feather. He could almost believe that if he wanted, he would float away on this cloud… bubble of happiness. Akihito knew that their relationship started on rocky, no, more like on sharp icy stalagmites and he could not blame Asami for any of it - the kidnapping, rape, fear. If anything, it propelled them forward and changed the dynamics of their… well, relationship. Akihito wondered and he wanted to use the 'L' word to describe whatever it was that bound them together but would it be the same for Asami?

There were times when Akihito felt a strange look in Asami's eyes, rather than seeing it. Asami was very careful not to 'give him the look' whenever Akihito was looking at him but the younger man could feel his gaze burning a hole in his back. In those instances, Akihito could never manage the nerve to look up and meet Asami's gaze. There was an ominous finality about it that strangely unnerved him and this presentiment usually hit him at the most inopportune moments, especially after a romp in bed or when they bantered over stupid issues like an old married couple.

They were precious moments and memories to Akihito and he did not appreciate this foreboding sense that looming over them like a shadow. It reminded him too much of a time bomb, like the clock was going to strike twelve at any moment and this small bubble of happiness was going to disappear. He could see it in Asami's distant eyes, the way his smile faltered a little at the edges or the words Akihito wanted to hear dying on Asami's lips before he could utter them. He had wondered at length once, pondering what could possibly be pulling the man away. Whenever Asami had that _look_ in his eyes, Akihito felt as if the temperature of the room had suddenly dropped twenty degrees by the look on Asami's face.

It was a truly beautiful afternoon. The sun was beginning to set on a low incline, the weather breezy with no rain clouds in sight. The sakura trees were only beginning to bloom and there was a faint and subtle sweet scent in the air. Akihito breathed in the air full of grass, bark, earth and sakura. It felt good, like he was cleansing himself from all his troubles and with this, Akihito could now focus on getting Asami to open up and share whatever it was that troubled him so. '_This would make a perfect spot for Hanami, though I wonder if Asami would be okay with that. He seems to hate public places. Perhaps a candlelight picnic?' _Akihito's face crumpled with silent laughter, imagining Asami's face if Akihito ever actually asked him to join him for a candlelit picnic.

Akihito could not blame Asami for his emotional awkwardness. He himself had no idea how to deal with the emotional aspect of their relationship. Sure, the sex was good, it was hot, it was amazing and they were perfectly compatible with each other in that area but when it came to the more substantial aspects and daily interactions, Akihito could only describe it as awkward.

In the last four months, Akihito's life could only be described as hectic. Thanks to Mitarai who kept pestering him endlessly to assist him in getting exclusive scoops, Akihito had been running left, right and center - all the while juggling several cases. Ever since Mitarai revealed his 'source' who turned out to be his detective girlfriend, a Takanori Misao, she had been able to connect Akihito with the detectives in the special branch. Thanks to her connections, Akihito was now tackling the so-called 'bug guns'. It pleased him that he was now actually making a difference, making the world a better place as the cops were able to utilise his expertise to more effective ends.

Sure, at the back of his head, Akihito always kept vigilant in case Asami's name ever came up but somehow, his name were always only ever mentioned in relation to others and was never the subject of investigations per se. On some level, Akihito was thankful for this small divine kindness. On the other hand, Akihito wondered about how far and how deep Asami's influence permeated, and the darkness intimidated him.

Today though, Akihito had received intel that the famous actress Miyazawa Akemi had finally returned after five years of hiding overseas. Her disappearance had been very mysterious. At the time, Akihito had only been seventeen and like many of his peers, he too had been a fan. After all, like her name, Miyazawa Akemi was absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful. She truly had those pearly, translucent and unblemished skin that women strived for; her crowning glory her long dark red (rare for a Japanese) tresses that fell over her slim but straight shoulders to her narrow waist.

It was said at the time of her disappearance that she had been involved with some illegal activities - and if rumours could be trusted - hinting at money laundering and tax evasions. Somehow the matter had died down after a few months and she was never charged but she disappeared shortly after, her agency citing that she needed rest after the entire ordeal and public harassment. Some rumours also insinuated that she was the secret lover of some yakuza gumi which Akihito personally thought was hilarious. Akihito could sympathise; in his experience, once the public's imagination had been engaged, it was difficult to stop it from spiralling out of control. Regardless, he had to find out what had happened to her, what it was that caused her to hide away for five years.

His source from her agency had said that she would be here, at the Japanese gardens and waiting at the Kyu Goryotei Pavilion in at four. Looking at his watch, Akihito estimated that he had about 30 minutes to spare, which was great because then he had some time to figure out a good hiding spot with the best view of the pavilion. Akihito was grateful that she had chosen this area. It had plenty of sunlight without the heavy contrast caused by strong sunlight.

It would look suspicious if anyone saw him holding a camera so he stashed his camera bag (carefully) behind a rock next to an old sakura tree and went in search for a good hideout. He decided that the best hideout would be somewhere on the perch of the lush trees surrounding the old pavilion - allowing him something of a birdseye view plus the concealment of his presence. Now all he had to do was to grab his bag. Akihito had to resist the urge to rub his hands together in glee. He felt like a naughty child peeking at something he would get his hand slapped for.

As Akihito approached the old sakura tree (where he had stashed his bag earlier), he found that someone else had already got to it, a few kids not older than five by AKihito's estimation. It seemed to Akihito that a red haired skinny kid had got to it first but the other kids had pushed him down and staked their claim to the bag. It was all a bit funny to Akihito because they could hardly lift it without heaving and they could not open it because it had a security lock so it amused Akihito that these kids were fighting over something they had no use for.

"Stupid _akagami_! This belongs to us," the shortest of the group yelled at the skinny boy.

The boy stood up and bravely threw his head back, nose in the air and… paused. Akihito's interest was piqued. The boy looked… regal, almost. With his head thrown back like that, his hair caught in the soft light shone like embers. '_What beautiful hair!'_ Akihito thought to himself.

The boy suddenly dropped his head and then stared at the three kids facing him. "Give it back! I found it first!"

"No, you're a _gaijin_."

"Why is your hair red, _akagami_?"

"This was here in the Japanese garden so it's ours because we are Japanese!"

"Stupid, shitty _akagami!_ Go away!" and with that, the biggest one of the three came forward and shoved him to the ground.

'_Honestly, what are parents teaching their kids these days!'_ Akihito thought. He was about to reveal himself when the skinny kid jumped and launched himself at the big boy, tackling him to the ground and slapping him. Akihito was somewhat impressed. He recalled a similar situation when he grew up at the orphanage. He was skinny and tiny back then but he was bullied for his hazel eyes. Once, his roommate told him that the reason he had hazel eyes was because he was cursed. He could not sleep for days after that, imagining some horrible demon coming to take his soul away in the dead of the night.

The kid was impressive but this was all wrong. Violence is not a solution. They were only kids after all. He decided that it was time for some intervention. He went straight up to the two kids wrestling on the ground and pried them apart.

The skinny kid glared at him through moist eyes and clawed at his arm, drawing blood. _God, this kid is vicious!_' he thought but looking at the kids eyes, he could feel the anger, humiliation and hurt behind the unshed tears. Akihito pulled the boy close and hugged the thrashing child tightly, one hand carding through red hair soothingly while he murmured softly, "Shhh! It's okay. Calm down, okay?"

The kid slowly calmed down and quieted in his arms as the other kids got together and started complaining to Akihito.

"Look what he did to me?" the big kid whined, gesturing at the bloody scratches on his face and arms. "He's a monster!"

The other kids joined him in agreement. This made Akihito mad. He could not help but feel protective about the redhead boy. He could feel the kid shifting and burrowing closer into his own body and his arms automatically tightened around the boy.

"Okay, okay. Firstly, do you guys like eggs?" Akihito asked out of the blue.

This surprised the kids and they all answered "Yes" in unison. "Okay, when you cook eggs, do you look at the shell and differentiate between dark eggshells and light ones? Between speckled ones plain ones?"

"I don't cook eggs, Ojisan but my mum does. She cooks all of them," one of the three piped up. Akihito's heart sank a little when the kid referred to him as Ojisan.

"I like eggs. I think the dotted ones are pretty," the smallest of the three said hesitantly.

"What about them? Eggs are eggs! Stupid Ojisan," the biggest muttered angrily, glaring at the kid now clinging to him like a koala.

Akihito smiled, untangling the redhead kid from himself. "Exactly! Eggs are eggs and kids are kids. It doesn't matter what they look like. Just because he has red hair doesn't make him a monster. I have blond hair and you called me Ojisan, right? When you grow up and dye your hair like I did, will that make you a _gaijin_?"

"But he can't even speak Japanese properly!" the biggest kid blurted, angry lines creasing his head.

"He's tiny and still learning, I'm sure. Eggs are eggs and kids are kids," Akihito repeated. "Kids should make friends with each other."

The three of them stared at each other, occasionally glancing at the boy clinging to AKihito's legs. The biggest kid simply stared at the redhead boy and then at Akihito before marching of. Akihito almost winced when he saw the blood from the scratches mark the boys shirt. He could still feel the sting on his arm where the boy clawed him. The remaining two shuffled a bit before curtly mumbling an apology and ran off after the big kid, camera bag forgotten.

Akihito looked down at the kid clinging to his leg and dropped down to crouch next to the boy. For the first time, Akihito took a good look at the kid. The boy stared back, with wide eyes like molten amber and red wavy hair framing his head like some kind of halo. Akihito was somewhat taken aback by that. The kid also had pale white skin. He truly looked like some kind of angel, or pixie, Akihito could not tell. Judging by the cheeky wide grin splitting his face and excited wide eyes, Akihito thought the kid truly looked like some devilish pixie.

The kid reached out and grabbed his face non-too gently. "Ne, ne, what is your name?"

Akihito was somewhat interested in the kid now, though not amused as before. "Akihito. And yours?"

The kid did not answer immediately, excitedly trying Akihito's name on his lips several times before beaming up and brightly exclaiming, "Aki! I'll call you Aki."

"Hey, I've given you my name now give me yours," Akihito said with a smile. "And you should call me Aki-niisama. I am elder to you after all."

The kid shook his head gleefully. "I can't do that because my name is Aki too."

"Really? Your name is Aki? What does your mom call you?" Akihito was filled with the need to be contrary. He did not like the way the brat was being overly familiar with him.

"My name is Hiroaki. My mom calls me Hiro. I can't call you Hito so I'll just call you Aki. But you must call me Hiroaki. Because you're not my mom," the kid said smiling. He began tugging at Akihito's hair a little. "Pretty," he said as he glanced at Akihito.

It was a warped sense of logic AKihito supposed, but he found that he could not fight that. Honestly, he did not understand why he took this kid so seriously in the first place. All his friends called him Aki anyways so it was no big deal really. "Why can't I call you Hiro, like your mom?"

"Because you are prettier than my mom," the boy answered, still playing with Akihito's hair.

Hiroaki's matter-of-fact explanation startled Akihito, and at the same time flattered him. "That's because you haven't seen blond hair before."

Hiroaki looked up, eyes suddenly sharp which struck Akihito as somewhat familiar for some reason. "I live in Lille with my mom and there are many people there with yellow hair. Aki is prettier than them." Akihito was lost for words. '_How does one reply to that? Lille? Where's that?'_

"So where's your mom? Why are you alone?"

"My mom is waiting for my dad. We came here to meet him. She… she doesn't like me hanging around her. She says it's dangerous." That struck Akihito as odd. _'Shouldn't it be: it's dangerous; keep close?'_

They had begun trudging up a path with the boy - Hiroaki - leading the way.

"Aki, how old are you?" Hiroaki piped up as they approached a bridge.

"Hmm, I'm twenty-four in May."

"Oh," Hiroaki muttered, somewhat dejected. "Don't worry. It's okay. I'm almost five."

Akihito laughed and ruffled Hiroaki's hair. The kid was cute.

"Thanks, Hiroaki." The kid blushed happily before suddenly stopping, his hands reaching Aki's arm. Wondering what could possible be wrong, he crouched in readiness to soothe the child. However, Hiroaki simply grabbed it tightly, his nails digging into Akihito's tender skin. Softly, very softly Hiroaki asked, "Are you married?"

Akihito tried to gently pry Hiroaki's fingers off his wrist. He really did not get this kid. '_Why is the kid acting like that?'_ "No, I'm not."

The tension surrounding the kid vanished as quickly as it appeared and the kid pulled Akihito along the path as he bounced towards a secluded pavilion. "That's good. You shouldn't, you know. It's better that way."

Akihito was beginning to think that there was something strange about this kid. Something wrong. Besides, he had gotten sidetracked. He was here for Miyazawa Akemi. He glanced at his watch. It was almost four. He had to leave _now_.

"Hey, Hiroaki. Listen, I'm actually working, um -" but before he could finish, Hiroaki interrupted by squelaing, "Oh, look! Is that my dad? It's my dad!"

Akihito looked towards the direction Hiroaki was pointing at. Beneath a huge sakura tree, were two figures huddled close. Something about the figures standing close together triggered Akihito's finely tuned journalistic instinct. He had to get a closer look. Crouching behind a tree, he quickly unlocked his camera bag and pulled out his long-range lense and deftly attached it to his camera without noise. He directed the camera at the couple and using his viewfinder, he zoomed and snapped away.

Crouched once again, he adjusted the brightness a little and zoomed in on the digital image saved on his memory card.

They were a couple - no doubt Hiroaki's parents. His mother had long red hair and fair skin, which the kid took after, and his dad was tall, well built and he had black hair swept back like Asami… It took Akihito a moment to digest the thought. It was Asami! He could recognise that built - and that suit - anywhere! And the woman in his arms was without doubt Miyazawa Akemi! _'Why is Asami with Miyazawa Akemi?' _Hiroaki's words just before he took off came back to him. '_Was he Hiroaki's father?'_

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**{Notes}**

_Hi there! This is my second attempted fic and it's been awhile. Be gentle in your reviews, okay? This chapter is too long so I'm breaking it into part I and part II.** This fic is going to be dark and a bit disturbing.**__**Definitely not for the light hearted. **__You __have been warned. Yes, this is all to fulfill my perverse imagination so if you don't like it, write your own. I'd read it, really. This was actually inspired by a twos hot I read awhile back and I decided to take it further by developing the storyline. I know that VF readers are quite picky so do review. I'd appreciate it. :)_

_I don't know if you realised by Hiro-Aki is the reverse syllable sound of Aki-Hito. I didn't notice it until much after writing it for awhile._

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**{Footnotes}**

Sakura - Cherry blossoms.

Hanami - This is the Japanese traditional custom of enjoying the transient beauty of flowers, "flower" in this case almost always meaning cherry blossoms ("sakura") or (less often) plum blossoms ("ume"). In modern-day Japan, _hanami_ mostly consists of having an outdoor party beneath the sakura during daytime or at night.

Shinjuku Gyouen - Shinjuku Gyoen (新宿御苑) is one of of Tokyo's largest and most popular parks. It dates back to the 1600's and consists of a Japanese garden, a French garden and an English one. It's very beautiful.

Kyu Goryotei - This was built on the occasion of the wedding of the Showa Emperor and is also known as the Taiwan Pavilion. It is located at the Japanese Garden within the Shinjuku Gyouen.

Miyazawa Akemi - The Japanese name Akemi may be written with the characters for "bright" or "red" (ake) and "beauty; beautiful" (mi), among other possibilities. In this case, it means red beauty.

Gumi - usually refers to different Yakuza organizations. The website I borrowed this from states that 'gumi' is a corrupted form of 'kumi' 組, and the term itself means "group", so there is technically no negative connotation

Akagami - redhead. I borrowed this from the manga 'Akagami no Shirayukihime'.

Hiroaki - The Japanese name Hiroaki may be written with the characters for "wide; large" (hiro) and "bright; light". Other possibilities include "ocean" (hiro) and "bright; light" (aki), as well as "auspicious; happiness; good omen" (hiro) and "melodious; clear; bright" (aki).

Hito - It can also mean person. So it doesn't make sense for Hiroaki to call Aki 'Hito'.

******These are borrowed from multiple websites so if the information is incorrect, please don't hesitate to correct me. Seriously, I don't mind.

******Regarding the eggs and racism bit, I borrowed that from this website:  article/5-tips-for-talking-about-racism-with-kids

******As for Aki's profile, I took that from:  /character/7184/Akihito_Takaba


	2. Confrontation

"Lying is done with words, and also with silence."

― Adrienne Rich, _Women and Honor: Some Notes on Lying_

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2. CONFRONTATION

_'Wait a moment, calm down!'_ Akihito took successive deep breaths, hoping to subdue the sudden thumping in his chest. Surely there was no way that Asami was the kid's dad. _'Or he would have told me, surely… he would have…'_

Akihito peeked again at the couple lingering in the shadows of the tree. They were walking now, hand in hand, towards the pavilion adjacent to Akihito's hiding spot. Akihito was not too sure if should trust his eyes; after all our sight oftentimes deceives us. But Akihito could trust his camera. There was no deceit, no mirage, no mind tricks that could affect it. It could always be relied upon to take pictures for what they are. _As they are_.

Once again clasping his camera in his hands, Akihito peered through the lens and clicked away as soon as the couple stepped into the light. His hands clammy, Akihito ducked and slowly zoomed at his new pictures. Gold eyes stared into brown ones, that immaculate smile still in place as his hand held hers tenderly. Akihito's stomach knotted uncomfortably. _'What the fuck was this – is this? This bloody blissful picture of domesticity?! What the hell. Was the bastard cheating on him?'_

Akihito's eyes were now burning with heat and something ticked away at the back of his skull. He scrolled past a few pictures, noticing the tenderness in Asami's body language. His heart was now beating at his throat, constricting his airflow. His mind was conflicted. He wanted to shout, scream, charge at Asami and pummel his chest. Damn, he wanted to launch an uppercut that would wipe off that smile of his face for good. _'Exactly what the hell is going on?'_

.+.

"Ryuichi, it's been way too long. I've missed you," Akemi whispered in between light kisses, her hand snaking to the back of Asami's head, keeping his head lowered and in place. Asami's own hand tightened around her small frame though he made no effort to deepen the kiss. At the back of his mind, it felt wrong. The feel of her lips were too soft though familiar, her body too small and fragile. He opened his eyes to see wisps of red lifted by the soft breeze when his mind's eye expected to see short blond waves instead. The two images overlapped in his head and he shifted uncomfortably. _Akihito._

"Akemi, I am sorry it took so long for you to come back. But everything is settled now," he assured her, pulling away from the kiss to study her with firm eyes. Akemi pouted a bit from the loss of touch, preferring to cross her hands under her heavy bosom. She noticed the way Asami's eyes swept over them briefly and was pleased that she could still elicit a response from this virile, powerful man. She had kept the kisses light, avoided heavy petting in public as a general rule but she could not deny the lingering warmth on her lips nor the fact that she was already hot for the man facing her, the truth of it evidenced by her damp panties.

"Settled, you say? What about that pet of yours then?" Akemi teased breathlessly in her sing-song voice. At this, Asami inhaled sharply, angry that she dared to mention _his _Akihito without his permission, the hairs on his neck bristling with concealed anger. Even now, Asami was extremely possessive when it came to his lover. Akihito was _his, _dammit. His and his alone. Akemi noticed the tension creasing Asami's brow and recognised the tell-tale signs of concealed rage so she wisely kept silent until he broke it.

"My pet or whatever he is, is mine, and is no concern of yours. He… his matter will be dealt with," Asami spat out harshly, resenting her interference in his matters and especially in this issue. He suppressed a groan. He had no idea how he was going to handle it… if it could be handled. The decision had made months ago but it did not mean that he was not conflicted about it. He still wanted his… what was his, was his and he wanted it.

Akemi suddenly dropped her gaze and quietly mumbled, within perfect hearing of course, "For Hiroaki's sake, I hope that's true. And… for ours and our future." Akemi clasped his hand and brought it to her lips as she gazed lovingly and apologetically at the only man she has ever loved.

Asami sighed. He could never stay angry with Akemi for long. She was his childhood friend and they had grown up together. As soon as he knew about sex, he had known Akemi's body. Her body was like a drug and Asami loved losing himself in carnal pleasure as he explored her womanly charms. Sure, he not limited himself to Akemi and had his way with both men and women who catered to his tastes on the side. When they hit eighteen, they had gotten married and their families had thrown them a lavish wedding. It seemed like the most natural thing to do and he did not regret it. But five years ago, one of his subordinate had tried to double cross him and he had needed her help to smooth things over, inadvertently drawing her into angry and ugly rumours.

Their marriage had not been based on love. Sure, he cared for her and loved her though not in the way he cared for Takaba. She was his friend, co-conspirator, wife, lover and mother of his child. Marriage had been the reasonable next step in their relationship and both of them were able to savour the best aspects of married life without its restraints, which suited both of them. Both had taken up lovers at some point; they lived separate lives and hardly saw each other except on special occasions.

But the time had come. It was inevitable, Asami knew this. Akemi was once again with child and Hiroaki was already five. He could delay this no more. '_Tonight,'_ he promised himself. _'Tonight I'll speak to Akihito.'_

.+.

Akihito had no recollection about how he reached home. _Home._ It was Asami's house but never his home. He realized that now. Asami had made it abundantly clear in those picture that spoke louder than words that Akihito had no place in Asami's life. He was replaceable, a passing cloud in the story of Asami's life.

'_You don't have that kind of value.'_

Asami's words came to him, unbidden. The gush of tears walling behind his eyes suddenly crashed forth, spilling over his cheeks to trickle down his chin. _'The bastard is looking down on me,'_ he thought. '_You think you can play me and then I'll just leave, like a good toy. So now that you've had your fun, you're tossing me out, huh?'_ Akihito's hand balled into fists. Scrambling from his bed, he stormed into Asami's room.

The room was serene, almost hypnotically surreal with everything spic and span, not an inch out of place, nothing that remotely resembled the maelstrom of grief, anger and betrayal that boiled within him. Akihito rushed over to Asami's study and began to frantically go over the files and drawers, looking for a hint of his relationship with Miyazawa Akemi. Finding nothing, he pushed the stack of files onto the floor. Going into the kitchen, Akihito grabbed a knife and headed for Asami's bedroom once more.

Looking around the room, he decided to make the fluffy king size bed his target. Holding the knife down, he plunged it into the mattress through the bed sheet and dragged it downwards, effectively slashing it. He did it over and over again, his tears pouring once again as remembered how Asami had made love to him numerous times on this bed, and how Asami had smiled and cuddled him after sex only to wake up in his arms. He thought back to how Asami had Kirishima light fireworks when he missed the display due to a prolonged shoot. All the tiny things that Asami did for him. He thought they were acts of love but now he knew better. They were only Asami's whims. He was a whim.

His arms aching, Asami allowed the knife to slip from his grasp. Like a zombie, he staggered into hallway, memories of Asami flooding him as he surveyed his home for the last several months. Asami was the one who had forced him to come here. He had kept Akihito prisoner physically. That Asami knew but what his lover did not know was that he had bound Akihito emotionally too. His constant possessive claims had gotten to Akihito. "Mine," he would say.

"Your freedom is in the palm of my hand." Was that not what Asami had said before? Akihito snorted before bursting out in sinister laughter. Maybe Asami really did see him as a toy - something to play with every now and then, something to be enjoyed and then kept away until needed again before being thrown away in the end. Perhaps that was where this was going. Akihito slammed into the wall, knocking a huge vase out of the way. It did not shatter. Somehow this fact irritated Akihito to no end. A wave of anger and despair crashed over the young boy who suddenly decided to thrash the entire apartment, overturning the sofa and swiping things of tables and walls.

With a cry Akihito crumbled into a heap beside the plush sofa. He wanted to forget everything. His eyes, now heavy tired began to close. The last thing Akihito saw before sleep claimed him were tiny crescent shaped indents around his wrist. His last thought was that the red marks actually looked quite beautiful against his tanned skin.

.+.

Asami did not return to his apartment in Shinjuku that day. After dinner, Asami dialled Akihito's number, intending to tell his boy that he would not be returning. His heart sank a little when the call did not go through. He missed his young lover's voice and simultaneously felt guilty at having to make excuses (lies). Asami lit the cigarette placed between his teeth, and inhaled deeply. He was not used to being so conflicted. He knew that he had to end it, and end it soon. He could no longer drag it out by putting his relationship with both Akemi and Akihito on hold. And yet, he could not find it within him to lose Akihito.

Akemi came up behind him and slid her arms underneath his arms to caress his stomach lightly, drawing small circles near his navel. Asami's breath caught in his throat when he felt her press her naked body to his back. Crushing his cigarette into the ashtray, he slowly turned around to look into his wife's chocolate eyes. One arm snaked around her hip to grab her butt as he lifted her while his other arm crushed her lips into his. Akemi's lips parted eagerly as his tongue pushed into her mouth, devouring it as she melted into the kiss, her hand massaging the nape of his neck before going up to tangle it in his hair. Asami's broke the kiss and Akemi inhaled deeply, Asami planting a trail of wet kisses before groping a breast, and in the next moment her nipple was in his wet mouth. Akemi arched up into his hot mouth, pulling his head closer. She gasped as his fingers came to play with her pubic hair.

It wasn't long before Asami picked her up and carried her to the bed where their cries of sexual ecstasy were heard for a long, long time.

.+.

When Asami stumbled into his apartment that morning, he had been expecting his home to be the same as it always was, which was in all truth, a reasonable assumption. He was definitely not expecting to see the utter chaos that greeted him in the harsh mid-morning light pouring unfiltered into the apartment (now that the curtains were gone - probably ripped from its rails by Akihito in a fit of anger).

Asami was shocked. Who in this world had the guts to ransack his home? Was it a thief, or an enemy? Or- his heart sank - another kidnap attempt on Akihito? He rushed into the apartment, looking for any tell-tale signs of struggle in the mess on the floor such as blood, footprints, gunpowder residue and found none of those. Nor was there sign of Akihito. This troubled Asami somewhat before he realised that perhaps the boy had been working overnight and had yet to come home. _After all, the only time Akihito would not pick up my phone call was when he was on a stakeout._ The thought seemed to placate him. As for the person who dared to -

"Asami."

Turning around, gold eyes locked on hazel ones, a hand already going into his pocket to draw a 9mm semiautomatic pistol hidden underneath his coat. The boy was huddled beside the sofa, hugging his knees together, and eyes red. Asami knelt in front of him, a hand reaching other to bring his beloved boy into his arms. Akihito stared at the outstretched hand, his heart jumping. Surely this was a hallucination conjured by the deep recesses of his mind after hours of painful desolation, the tangible wreckage of _their relationship_ - no, _his_ _heart_ lay broken around him.

"Akihito, are you okay?" Asami's voice, full of care and concern crashed on his ears like a tidal wave. Hazel eyes hardened. Akihito slapped away Asami's hand and pushed himself to his feet hastily. He almost stumbled backward into the wall, but caught himself of the shoulder of the sofa. His head was pounding painfully and Akihito shut his painfully dry eyes close as he tried to ignore the pain. "Where were you?"

Akihito's behaviour struck Asami as odd. If he did not know better, it looked like the younger man was trying to pick a fight with him. "I should be the one asking the questions." Akihito's eyes snapped open, fire burning furiously behind them. "I asked where you were last night." Akihito gritted out, enunciating word by word, his voice raised.

Asami was shocked by the clear anger and disgust displayed clearly in the contorted face of his lover. He made a move to pull the boy but the boy snarled and brought hands up to shove him backwards harshly. _'Did he know? But he couldn't have.'_

Asami pushed his thoughts to the back of his mind. "If you had bothered to answer your phone, you'd know that I was late at the office, but what brought on this wave of possessiveness? Did you miss me?" Asami smirked as he asked the last question, trying to goad the boy into telling him exactly what it was that was pissing him off so. He expected Akihito to lash out at him in a tirade of self- indignant protests but he only stood there like a gaping fish, looking as if he had been slapped in the face. Asami waited for a minute, then two which then became five full minutes before sighing but the boy did not move nor did he utter a single word.

"I saw you. With her. And your _son._"

Asami's head shot up immediately, not at what Akihito had said but at the vehemence, disgust and hatred that laced the shocking announcement. There it was - the deciding moment or what typically dubbed the moment-of-truth. Asami could see the allegations of betrayal that radiated from Akihito in all directions, his hurt eyes glinting with anger and unshed tears. "Were were you last night?"

His heart lurched painfully in his chest but the die had been cast long ago. "I was with her, naturally," Asami drawled, this time moving away to lean against the wall as he drank in the sight of his most beloved person. A look of pure hurt crossed Akihito's face before it hardened, a vein throbbing above his temples, hands curled into fists by his side.

"That's it, then?" Akihito hissed, slamming a fist against the wall. "That's all you have to say?" Asami's only response was to draw out a cigarette and stick it in his mouth lazily. Akihito's broken heart was slowly shattering into tiny pieces. "So is she your lover then?" he spat out with venom.

Asami had lit his cigarette and was now dragging on it appreciatively, as if detached from the passionate outcry of the man who had shared his bed over the last year. "No." Akihito could only stare in disgust at the man he thought he knew and loved. _'So she's another toy? The mother of your son?'_ Despite the passionate and accusing eyes boring into him, Asami took another drag and then continued, "She's my wife."

Akihito's knees buckled at the sudden revelation but managed to steady himself against the wall. His brains were going into overdrive processing the bit of information, not realising that he was now laughing maniacally. Asami had been married the whole time. Akihito felt like a fool. _The soft, tender and intimate touches… the times when Asami had come for him… the times when Asami had clung to him at the peak of orgasm, releasing his seed inside him… all those time that balloon of happiness had flared inside him. _Lies. They were all lies.

Asami's hand itched to move forward and sooth his lover but his legendary self-control kicked into place, keeping absolutely still until Akihito's laughter had died down. And then there was silence.

Akihito stood up, wiping all traces of tears and saliva and dried discharge as the corner of his eyes. "I want out. I refuse to play the fool any longer."

Asami merely waved his hand as he turned to stare out the window, "By all means." Akihito remained standing and unmoving, lengthening that excruciating moment.

"I loved you, you know."

Asami simply brought the cigarette to his lips and inhaled the suffocating smoke. He could hear Akihito move, he heard the bathroom door at the end of the hall open and close, the sound of the shower turning on.

Suddenly the apartment seemed too small for Asami. Crushing the cigarette violently into the windowsill, he walked out of the apartment and headed for the elevator. He needed to be somewhere, anywhere, far away from here. He felt an undeniable need to remove himself - to put as much distance between him and the biggest mistake of his life.

Akihito's last words kept playing in his head like a broken record.

_I loved you… I loved you… I loved you…_

_I loved you, you know… I loved you, you know… I loved you, you know…._

_I love you… I love you…_

_I love…_

When Asami returned home the next day, Akihito was gone. He knew that without having to walk into the painfully empty apartment. Akihito's room was empty. His toothbrush was gone and so were his photography magazines. Even his soiled laundry. Akihito's favourite mug was gone. The wine bottle he had gifted Asami months before had been thrown onto the floor and was now broken, the wine emptied into the sink beforehand.

Asami laughed. _'Yes,' _he thought darkly, _'the matter has been settled, Akemi.'_

.+.

It was eight years later that anyone saw Takaba Akihito again. It was a sunny morning and the sunlight played against the sandy yellow of his hair, highlighting it gold near the edges. However, his face was stony and devoid of any emotion.

They were all wearing black. It was befitting somehow. After all, black had been Asami's favourite colour. Or at least, that was the opinion of the boy with red hair and golden eyes. He glanced around and saw his mother choke on a sob. His little brother in the arms of the nursemaid fast asleep, oblivious to the tragedy around him.

They were gathered today to pay their last respects and witness the final rites of an Asami Ryuichi. It was a pathetic end to a great man, the boy thought. His father had been powerful, intelligent and wise. He had looked up to his father a great deal but dying in between the legs of a prostitute (a high-end escort actually) was disappointing. The boy had expectations.

His father had always been there to guide him and point him in the right direction. He remembered the time his father had taught him how to aim and shoot, or how they went hunting together and his dad had taught him how to skin a rabbit in four moves. They were his favourite memories of his dad. He wished it was his mom who had died instead. He would not have missed her.

As the priest went on and on, the boy had spotted the blond photographer speaking to Kirishima at the back of the crowd and his heart leapt at the recognition. _Aki_! It was Aki! He wanted to move, to go greet him, hug him and tell him all sorts of stories. Over the years, he wondered if their meeting had been a dream after all. He went back to the park many times over the years, expecting to meet him again but never did. He had thought that the blond man must have been some tree spirit, a true angel who had come to his rescue. He could imagined the warmth he had felt from him as a child, imagined the man's arm around him. He had felt… safe.

As soon as he had cast dirt onto his father's coffin, he turned around, eyes searching for a hint of blond hair but to no avail. He was gone.

Hiroaki gritted his teeth in anger. He walked up to Kirishima and stared at him in cold anger. "Kirishima."

The older guy now bearing grey strands, looked down at the teenager through his sunglasses. "Yes, Waka," he acknowledged in respectful tones.

"Where is Aki?"

Kirishima raised an eyebrow. "Takaba Akihito-kun?" he blurted, surprised that his new master knew Akihito at all.

"Takaba… Akihito. Yes. Where did he go?" Hiroaki smiled in self-satisfaction.

"He said that he had to catch a train to Nagoya so he left about ten minutes ago. Is there a problem, Waka?" Kirishima enquired.

The boy pondered for a moment. "No, there isn't a problem Shateigashira." Kirishima visibly jumped at the mention of the title. The boy simply smiled. So Kirishima knew his angel and his angel's name was Takaba Akihito. This had to be the best day ever!

He sighed, red locks flopping into his eyes. Swiping them away from his face, he decided cheer up despite the disappointment collecting in his stomach. _'There will be other times,'_ he promised himself.

He would make sure of that.

* * *

**{Note}**

Disclaimer - This is a fanfic and as such none of the characters belong to me save for Hiroaki.

_Guys, thank you so much for the reviews! It was awesome! I am really thankful that you guys were so supportive even though you obviously hate the fact that Asami dies. Technically, it is still an Aki/Asami pairing except that it isn't Asami Ryuichi but Asami Hiroaki. I wrote this chapter as fast and as best as I could. I'm new to writing lemon due to my limited experience but I'm willing to give a try. If you have advice, I need it. :)_

_Please share your thoughts, flames, whatever, everything. I have some idea where this story should be going but I've never written a dark fic before. And trust me, it's going to get very dark. It has a happy ending though. Or at least, that's what I have planned ;)_

_There is another VF fic underway - this time with the right Asami/Aki pairing. I'm thinking of a Bleach_ crossover_ this time. It sounds crazy, I know._

* * *

**{Footnotes}**

Wakagashira (Waka) - in most Yakuza manga, it refers to the successor but in terms of a typical Gokudo (Yakuza) organisational structure, the Wakagashira, is supposed to be the first officer, deputy chairman and vice president - so to speak.

Shateigashira - according to the Gokudo structure is supposed to be the second lieutenant, third in command, whose authority is only second to the Wakagashira.

**~ I can't vouch for it's accuracy though. I got it off Wikipedia.


	3. Regret

_"The only victories which leave no regret are those which are gained over ignorance."_ - Napoleon Bonaparte

* * *

"I asked where you were last night?" Akihito gritted out, word by word.

Asami was wracking his head hard, wondering what had gotten into his boy. '_Why was he acting like that? Why did he sound so hurt?_ ' Every nerve in his body was screaming to reach out and engulf that seemingly frail body and chase away the hurt in his voice and that forlorn look in his eyes. But Akihito had slapped his hands away. '_Why?'_

He stood for a moment taking in the dishevelled appearance. Akihito had hardly slept at all judging from the dark patches under his eyes. They were also red and strained, as if the blond had cried all night. Again the questions bubbled within Asami. There were bloody scratches on Akihito's hands and some on his feet, Asami suspected from the now muddy looking stains on the carpet and the floor. Asami could feel the anger beginning to boil from within him. Nobody touched what was his. Not even Akihito himself. The blond had no right to damage or hurt his body in any way.

Asami looked back to _his_ Akihito. Concern for the boy was temporarily keeping the anger at bay. The hurt and – was that accusation in his eyes – hurt Asami in ways he did not want to admit. It made his throat constrict painfully, his stomach roil and the he could feel an uncomfortable heat slowly claw at his insides - and it frustrated him.

But it was the _anger_ and _disgust_ on Akihito's face that spurred him to reach out and pull the boy in arms. He could not help it. He needed Akihito within his embrace. He needed Akihito's warm breath on his skin – a reminder that Akihito was his and his alone. His fingers had barely touched Akihito when Akihito's face contorted like a cornered wild animal, a snarl erupting from the young man as his hands came up to roughly shove the older away with strength and vehemence that Asami would normally not associate with his younger lover.

Akihito's behaviour was beginning to rub on his nerves and as much as Asami did not want to admit it, things were slipping out of his control. Akihito's behaviour was not just a little strange but entirely out of character and for the first time in the entire duration of their relationship, Asami did not know how to handle the situation. He could always threaten the boy the way he did with his rivals and enemies but Akihito was not part of _that_ life. He was special and Asami acknowledged that even if he did not explicitly say it. A thought suddenly occurred to him, his mind going over the events of the past two days. Could his lover have learnt of it? '_Did he know? But he couldn't have.'_

Asami pushed his thoughts to the back of his mind. It was simply not possible. Akemi had been here only two days after all. Asami decided that it was time to change tactics. He did not like this lack of control and so he decided that would make Akihito tell him exactly what it was that was eating at him like that. Asami resolved that he would clear whatever misunderstanding the blond was clearly under and things would go back to normal between them – but not before some punishment in bed for the mental (and emotional) torture his boy was putting him through right now.

"If you had bothered to answer your phone, you'd know that I was late at the office, but what brought on this wave of possessiveness? Did you miss me?" Asami smirked as he asked the last question, trying to goad the boy into telling him exactly what it was that was pissing him off so. He felt a little better now, anxiously hoping to put this scary episode behind them. He expected Akihito to lash out at him in a tirade of self- indignant protests as he usually did whenever Asami goaded at him but Akihito merely stood there like a broken doll, looking as if he had been slapped in the face.

The deadish look in his lover's eyes sliced at Asami. _'Why did he have to look so… wounded? _ But Asami kept his face neutral. He needed to act as normal as possible so that he could pull Akihito out of it and not sink into this… whatever this is. Asami waited for a full minute, then two, which then became five full minutes before sighing. Akihito had hardly moved. He really did seem like a broken doll. To Asami, it seemed like the kid did not even exhibit signs of life, such as breathing. Not even a twitch in his facial muscles was apparent. It was as if the kid had blocked him out and that scared Asami. He would have laughed if it was not for the lifeless limbs and fear that was beginning to numb him. Imagine that, the biggest Kingpin in all of Tokyo _and_ southern Japan, and he was scared shitless by a brat who did nothing except to _do nothing_. He could bet that nobody saw that coming. Asami ran a hand through his head in an attempt to get it all together. '_Shit. I should have come home last night. Regardless of what Akemi said or wanted – I should have been home. What the hell happened? I wish I had the security tapes from last night right no-'_

"I saw you. With her. And your _son._"

Asami almost swore that his boy had not spoken. That the words had simply floated in out of nowhere. In fact, he was absolutely certain that they were the product of his imagination but his head shot up anyway at what seemed to be the sound of Akihito's voice. There was repulsion in the face that greeted his and there was an acrid hatred that laced his next words.

"Where were you last night?"

Asami could see the allegations of betrayal that radiated from Akihito in all directions, eyes glinting with anger and unshed tears. Asami's heart lurched painfully in his chest. Asami had not been sure if he had a heart and he wondered briefly if this was what it felt like when your heart was being wrenched. But there was nothing Asami could do; the die had been cast long ago. And there was no need for lies between them; there never was and for once, Asami truly wished that he could simply lie - lie to Akihito, lie to Akemi and lie to his son – but he respected Akihito too much and Asami himself was above such pettiness and he would not stoop so low as that. "I was with her, naturally," Asami drawled, this time moving away to lean against the wall as he drank in the sight of his most beloved person. He needed to capture Akihito as he was right now and embed it in his memory. This was the price of betrayal. In the end, it was he himself who brought in betrayal into their relationship. A look of pure hurt crossed Akihito's face before it hardened, a vein throbbing above his temples, hands curled into fists by his side. Despite the numbness in his hands, Asami's muscles itched to run a hand over the throbbing vein and unclasp Akihito's fist to grip them with his own hands in comfort.

Akihito's pain was tearing him apart.

"That's it, then?" Akihito hissed, slamming a fist against the wall. Asami's anger rose. '_Did the kid have to cause damage to himself like that?'_ Asami was torn between the desire to keep Akihito with him without his consent and allowing Akihito that choice. A part of him wanted Akihito to stay with him willingly but he dared not hope for such because he knew the boy's pride, his temperament. Akihito would not tolerate any kind of two-timing. Asami was proud of that because it also meant that Akihito would not two-time him. But this was worse than two-timing. Because this time, Akihito would be his mistress.

"That's all you have to say?" Asami's only response was to draw out a cigarette and stick it in his mouth as normally as possible. He needed the nicotine boost if he was going to go through with this. It had never been his intention to let his lover go. Sure, he knew it was expected of him – heck, he expected him of himself but when it came to Akihito, he always would react in ways he never expected. He could see Akihito's broken heart slowly shatter into tiny pieces. He wished he could gather them and put it back together but knowing his sin, he did not expect the boy to welcome his assistance. Simply knowing that the boy would never again want him near, he could feel something crackle and burn inside his chest.

"So is she your lover then?" Asami was trying to keep the heat in his body contained and he could hardly speak when he was thrown the younger man's hate-filled question. Asami had lit his cigarette and he now inhaled on it deeply, not wanting his anger to show. He could almost hear a voice telling him to simply beat the boy for daring to question him in the first place. He cared for the brat and Akihito knew that. Akihito belonged to him anyway; so what if he had a wife? But Asami knew that even if Akihito was his, he would never belong to Akihito in the same way. The knowledge hurt. No doubt that knowledge would hurt Akihito but it hurt him too knowing that despite his feelings, Akihito could never be his number one. "No."

Behind the thin screen of smoke, he could see Akihito's face transform into that of disgust. Asami had always thought that he would be happy if he could look into Akihito's passionate eyes but now those very eyes were looking at him with accusation in their depths and hurt that he himself has put there. He had never in his wildest dreams think that he could hurt the brat like that and now he found that he could not forgive himself. Asami breathed in the cigarette again, knowing that his next words would do irreparable damage. "She's my wife."

Akihito's knees buckled and he shrank back into the wall, his eyes closed , eyebrows drawn together. Asami fisted his hands at his side, needing to let Akihito decide for himself if he would leave or if he would stay. He desperately needed Akihito to stay but he wanted Akihito to want it too. He knew that it was unlikely and it would bring problems on later but a part of him believed that the Akihito who loved him would never leave him.

He heard the laughter bubble from Akihito, a few bursts of laughter before it erupted into maniacal hysteria. He had done this to his Akihito. Akihito might be laughing but he was crying too. Tears streamed from his red eyes, leaving wet trails down his now blotchy face when his cheeks flushed against the paleness of his forehead and dark circles under his strained eyes.

Akihito stood up, wiping all traces of tears and saliva and dried discharge at the corner of his eyes. The sight of it struck Asami cold. "I want out. I refuse to play the fool any longer."

Asami waved a hand, as if to block out the words he did not want to hear. He could feel the heat in his midsection spread to his throat and behind his eyes. He was beginning to regret not lying to the teen. If only he had persuaded the teen that everything was a lie… Asami turned away, feeling tears prick from behind his eyes. His throat worked soundlessly but he managed to bite out a sentence, resentment at his lover creeping into it for discarding him so easily. "By all means."

Asami expected the teen to fight, leave, scream, cry, charge at him but Akihito did nothing and the long silence was beginning to grate on Asami's nerves. He could feel the anger burning just beneath his skin. He wanted to slap his younger lover for even thinking about leaving him - he wanted to strike and mark the body he worshipped for the past year with pain. He wanted Akihito to himself. He could feel the need to wring Akihito's neck suffuse his hands and he clasped them together without looking at his lover.

"I loved you, you know."

That sentence completely undid Asami. He brought the cigarette to his lips and inhaled the suffocating smoke. He could hear Akihito move; he heard the bathroom door at the end of the hall open and close, the sound of the shower turning on. Behind the cigarette smoke the older man was crying. He felt the wet tears soothe the heat, anger, pain and guilt that churned away inside him. Asami held his head in his hands and sobbed silently, his body trembling with the force of his sobs and he understood suddenly that he was going to regret this for the rest of his life as Akihito's voice kept playing in his head.

It still played in his head, two years later.

Akemi had lost the child and it had affected her badly as she spiralled into depression. For months after he lost Akihito, he blamed his childhood sweetheart. He could admit now that it was his fault. He should have told the boy sooner. He could have divorced Akemi and kept both the kid and Akihito. Hiroaki would love Akihito. He was sure of it. But he knew that Akihito would never come back to him now. And so Asami spent most of his time with his son.

His son often spoke to him about his encounter with an angel. Initially, it had angered Asami that Akemi had filled his heir's head with such rubbish but Hiroaki's angel was not your average angel. This angel was not kind to everybody but only towards Hiroaki. This angel protected him and hugged him even though most people were uneasy around the child. Most of all, the angel Hiroaki described took on Akihito's form in Asami's mind for some reason. Asami had noticed that the child had that effect on certain people. Even the usually unruffled Kirishima had told him once that the 'Bocchama' gave him the shivers, as if he could see through the older man. Asami saw that as a compliment. His child was truly gifted with leadership qualities.

However, he never forgot the price he had paid for this domestic bliss. The day Akihito walked out of his life, he had stopped trailing him, stopped thinking about him, stopped watching out for him but he could never get rid of Akihito's parting words. It came to him on cold nights, warm afternoons, stroked him to arousal in the middle of the night, while eating, sometimes when he was brushing his teeth, and once while he was fucking a prostitute with blonde hair and small, taut breasts. No matter what he did, it stayed with him – calming him, soothing him, angering him, saddening him…

_I loved you, you know._

.+.

If anything, Asami had become even more brutal over the years.

He ignored Akemi most of the time, except when he was mad and fucking her into the mattress. Asami had expanded his territory aggressively in the last six years. The corpses that he left behind had multiplied like flies. Asami ignored all of it. They had stood in his way and they had been eliminated.

His life was basically perfect. He had recently snatched millions worth of a weapon shipment that was heading for Russia – to a Mikhail Arbatov. Asami hated the man with a vengeance, especially now that he no longer had Akihito with him, his resentment for their past association grew to mountainous proportions. He wanted to see the Russian fall and break into pieces the way Akihito had during his kidnapping. Asami gripped his hand hard. He hated it when he thought back to Akihito. He hated that he still cared. The boy was still single, still handsome and still breathtaking. He had glimpsed his ex-lover once as he was crossing the street a couple of months back with his two friends in tow and it rankled – that he could live without Asami when Asami could hardly live without thinking of him.

And it was true. He thought of Akihito all the time. He missed Akihito's fire, passion and tactlessness. He missed Akihito's anger and teasing and shy smiles. Most of all, he missed the way the young man always seemed so lost in love with him – to the extent where he did things he normally wouldn't do. Asami felt lonely and incomplete. It was that void that was eating at him now, causing him to become reckless. Kirishima had warned him that he was making too many unnecessary enemies and in reply, Asami had laughed.

Asami was not afraid of death nor pain. He remembered the last time he had felt scared and the image of a broken and hurt Akihito floated into his thoughts. 'Yes, that's what I did to him.' He wanted to deny it but the image still pricked at him, guilt ripping at whatever remained of his heart.

His recent sex interest and mistress was what he collected as interest from a recently bankrupted CEO of a pharmaceutical company. Usually, he collected his dough in cash or valuables but when the girl came to him to plead for her father's life, it reminded him too much of how Akihito had looked after the kidnapping, when he shot Yuri in the chest. He took her then and there and then forced her into prostitution. Months later, when Akihito haunted his thoughts, he came to her. This time she had been willing and she fucked herself on him all night long. She had even dyed her hair blonde at his request. He did not even know her name.

So one night when Akihito voice repeated themselves in his head, he had Kirishima drive him to a hotel where he had his rendezvous with the girl. As usual, she took him in the mouth after he cruelly and brutally grabbed at her breast and bruised her arm. Not much later, she was impaling herself on him and continued to push down on him as he gripped at her hips hard while muttering coldly for her to move. In his head, it was Akihito's broken form he saw, sitting among the broken glass in the shadow of the sofa, whispering "I love you.."

When the girl suddenly pulled out a gun from under the pillow as she pushed herself on his hard arousal, cocked her head to side and smiled, "Hey, thanks for the fuck. Mikhail says he'll miss you but he'll be glad you're gone, you bastard", and pulled the trigger. But Asami heard none of that. As his eyes closed for the last time, it was Akihito's face he saw and Akihito's voice saying…

_"_I loved you, you know."

* * *

******{Note}**

_Firstly, I'd like to thank everybody for all the reviews and follows and generally the support and encouragement that you guys gave me. I'd especially like to thank Setsuna24 and Yamiga for their advice and support. I took some their pointers and deliberated a bit longer about how to proceed with the story. Without that, this chapter would not be possible because I was originally going to move on with another time gap. The next chapter will be a more comprehensive POV that will take place across several timelines._

_I hoped you guys enjoyed this chapter. It's sensitive to Asami's POV and sympathetic towards him. It's kind of sad. I felt crying as I was writing the end. It's just too sad but I wanted to show that despite the cruelty within him, he decided to let Aki go - even if that meant his death and destruction. i hope this makes sense to you guys because I wrote this in five 3 and the half hours straight and I'v hardly had time to edit but it feels right._

_I also apologise for the delay because I recently got a job as a part time customer service personnel and I've been super drained everyday. It's tough and the pay isn't much (pittance, really) but i love it and my colleagues are really fun - except for a sexist, misogynist and chauvinist newcomer... I regret being so nice to him now. _

_Gotta go. It's late this side of the world and I have the morning shift._

**{Footnotes}**

Bocchama – short for Obocchama, means yound Master.


End file.
